


That Boy, Take Me Away (I'll Do Whatever You Say to Me in the Dark)

by arctichalsey



Series: Just a Young Heart, Confusing My Mind [4]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Confused Luke, Confused Michael, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, Hand Job, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sad Luke, Sad Michael, Sexual Content, Smut, Wet Dream, these tags are a mess, this title is too damn long i'm sorry, title still taken from 'candles' by daughter, vv briefly!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:59:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9145903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arctichalsey/pseuds/arctichalsey
Summary: It was at three A.M, with rain pouring in sheets over Luke's bedroom window and the heat coming from the vent under his bed not quite reaching his toes that he realised something.He couldn't describe it, but he knew what it was. He'd written songs about it, felt it a handful of times prior but it never stuck to him so hard before. He could truly feel it this time, it was like finally being able to breathe but choking at the same time.The harder he tried to deny it to himself, of all people, the more obvious it became. He held a pillow to his chest, which felt like it was gaping open for all to see and criticise, and squeezed his eyes shut.Luke was in love with Michael Clifford.The rain grew softer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> END OF THIS LITTLE "CANDLES" SERIES SO I HOPE YOU ENJOYED AND READ THIS IN THE ORDER I POSTED BECAUSE EVERYTHING ISN'T TOO CLOSELY RELATED BUT STILL TIES TOGETHER (^:  
> wrote most of this while listening to of monsters and men so get ready   
> aaah part 4 let's go  
> (there's mature content somewhere here for a sensible page filler i'm SORRY)

It was at three A.M, with rain pouring in sheets over Luke's bedroom window and the heat coming from the vent under his bed _not quite_ reaching his toes that he realised something.

He couldn't describe it, but he knew what it was. He'd written songs about it, felt it a handful of times prior but it never stuck to him so hard before. He could truly _feel_ it this time, it was like finally being able to breathe but choking at the same time. 

The harder he tried to deny it to _himself,_ of all people, the more obvious it became. He held a pillow to his chest, which felt like it was gaping open for all to see and _criticise,_ and squeezed his eyes shut. 

Luke was in _love_ with Michael Clifford.

The rain grew softer.

 

* * *

 

Luke knew he wasn't all anything special. Nothing but broad shoulders and knobby knees and a knack for plucking strings and making noise that was a bit more pleasant than most. The thought didn't bother him much, really, because he was just fine with being average. He was fine with being average with a touch of luck.

That was the first thought that rolled into his head when he woke, before he'd gotten a chance to open his eyes. Well, the first thought that had followed the one where he panicked, just a little, because _fuck_ he loved Michael and wasn't _good enough_ to do that.

Stupid and average. Luke really needed to update his Twitter bio.

Luke kicked his blankets off, somberly noting the grey sky and the stuffiness growing thick in his room. His heater was still running. 

Stomach empty and brain desperately needing a kick of caffeine, Luke pulled himself up and let his fingers run across the wall as he made his way down to the kitchen. His bare feet padded on the ground softly; the ground was still cold and it sent shivers up his spine.

"I'm not using your gross fucking lingo, either. Literally _no one_ says _sexcapades_ _."_ Luke heard the familiar voice scoff, and his lip quirked slightly because that was so _Michael_ that the sentence alone, no matter how gruff or vulgar, sounded like _home._

Calum was quick to cut back in, "Duh, that's why it's _my_ 'gross fucking lingo'-"

Luke rapped his knuckles on the doorframe. "It's too damn early to hear you two argue," he yawned and met Michael's eyes for a split second as he instead shifted his gaze towards the empty coffee pot. _Fuck._

Calum rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Luke."

"Hey," both Luke and Michael scoffed, and that made Luke glance quickly at the dark haired boy and, instead of feeling heat rush to his cheeks at the odd timing of both of their rebuttals, his own stomach dropped because Michael looked pale, clammy, and _sick._ His _baby_ was sick. 

Luke wanted to internally slap himself for being such a romantic. He opted for pinching his own thigh.

"Cal, don't mess with the lovers this early," Ashton's voice rang through the kitchen as the brunette kicked his way in, a wide grin stretched across his face and Michael let out a quiet groan that Luke would've noticed from ten miles away.

The older boy had his arms wrapped across his stomach, and Luke noticed he was wearing his _sick_ sweater (it was a navy blue hoodie he'd worn since year ten and now he'd taken to only wearing it when he was feeling especially _bad)._

So, in lieu of the coffee he was planning on brewing or the Vegemite toast that sounded all-too-good for another dreary London morning, Luke dropped himself into the wooden chair next to the older boy, cringing with the way his bony ass absorbed none of the shock. 

_I should start doing squats._

Without a single beat of hesitation, Luke looped an arm around Michael's small shoulders and pulled him just a _bit_ closer into his chest. Michael whined, probably because the pull jostled his head a bit more than necessary, and sniffed a bit.

"Shut up," Michael grumped. Luke just pulled him closer and pressed his mouth to the boy's temple, resisting the urge to press a kiss there.

"Didn't even say anything," he sighed instead, a small smile tugging on the edges of his lips. His eyes trained on Calum and Ashton as the pair worked dynamically on setting up a full breakfast. He cringed just a bit as he heard Calum begin to work on explaining his master plan to _sexcapade_ endgames. 

Michael, however, finally gave in to Luke and turned into his shoulder, sighing audibly. Luke rubbed his shoulder in what he hoped was comfortingly.

"D'you got a fever, or something?" Luke was tempted to kiss Michael's forehead and cheeks to check.

Luke felt the boy shrug, let out a sharp sigh, and begin vibrating a bit. Luke's grip on him tightened because Michael was _shaking,_ and he was _sick,_ and it all made Luke feel bad himself.

"I don't know, I just feel icky." Michael answered in a gruff but saddened tone. 

Suddenly, Ashton whirled around, and clapped loud enough that Luke's dead fish could probably hear it from the sewers back in Australia. "Alright, guys, we're gonna be tourists today, we're gonna go to King's Cross, and then to the science museum..."

Michael let out a small noise, making Luke laugh sympathetically and press his mouth to the older boy's temple.

That was the closest Luke would ever be able to really kissing him, and it was slowly becoming less _enough._

 

* * *

 

Michael's chest was a comforting weight against Luke's, the boy pinning him down with his hands around the blonde's wrists, hips hard and heavy against the blonde's and Luke _moaned,_ loud and obscene, and Michael slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Fuck, you're _loud,"_ the older boy chuckled. Luke threw his wrist over his eyes, cheeks pink as he fought down another groan fighting its way up his chest. God, he was gonna come so _quick,_ just from Michael's hips fucking into his. They weren't even _naked._

"Shut up," Luke whined, peeking through his fingers. Bashful, he murmured, "just make me come."

Michael's eyebrow cocked up, and he wrenched Luke's arm from his face. "What was that, baby?"

 _Baby._ Yep, Luke was _definitely_ gonna come quicker than he wanted to. 

"Make me come!" He groaned, closing his eyes because his cover wasn't there anymore. Michael laughed again, leaning down to lick into Luke's mouth softly, the kiss wet and, frankly, it made Luke leak off a bit into his too-tight skinny jeans. 

Michael deftly undid the button on Luke's jeans, "This what you want?" His hand snaked into the younger boy's underwear, "wanna come, in your boxers, like the _dirty fucking boy_ you are?" 

Luke whimpered as Michael's hand wrapped around his length, _"Yes!"_

How many times did he have to say it?

"That's right baby, fuck my hand," Michael mumbled, jacking him off quick and fast and Luke was pushed to the edge in minutes. He was babbling incoherently, little _fuck_ s and _please_ s pouring uncontrollably from his throat. Michael seemed to not hear him, licking hot over the column of his throat as his thumb rubbed over Luke's tip and _oh fuck,_ Luke was coming-

A gasp flew from Luke's chest as his alarm blared, his eyes squinting to adjust to the sunlight in his room. With shaking hands, Luke silenced the sound, grimacing at his sticky hips and the fact that he was still somehow half-hard. 

He covered his face with his hands, desperately rocking onto his knees as he glanced down and saw the damage of his dream. He'd need to wash his sheets and sweats without any of the others seeing.

Luke sighed, shook his head at himself.

This was getting _pathetic._

 

* * *

 

"Another point for Hemmo!"

"Fuck you!" Calum scoffed, shoving Luke's shoulder. The blonde laughed as Ashton continued to narrate and relay the  FIFA game they were too engaged in.

Luke was good at multitasking; half of his mind was on the game, half of his mind was drowned in the boy, sick and tired, just a few bedrooms away. Heat rushed to his cheeks when he remembered his _dream,_ and Calum scored.

"I'm catching up, fucker!" Calum laughed, and Luke rolled his eyes, dream momentarily forgotten, and made another goal as soon as the round reloaded. "Fuck you, Michael."

Michael?

Maybe Luke wasn't as observant as he thought.

The older boy laughed and crossed into the kitchen, an action that had Luke shoving his controller into Ashton's hands - _"I don't even like FIFA!"_ \- as he sprung up and followed him. 

Michael's lanky figure was crouched over the sink, seeming so much smaller than usual as he uncapped one of Ashton's protein-shake bottles. Luke slid up to him almost soundlessly, lips just an inch from his neck as he whispered, "You feeling okay?"

Michael jumped. Luke smiled a little bit to himself at his reaction and kept his eyes trained on the older boy's hands - his fingers were short and skinny, Luke thought they'd feel perfect intertwined with his own - as he unsteadily turned the faucet.

"Yeah. Just a bug, I think," Michael's voice was thick with illness and Luke had half the mind to feel bad, until his mind translated the gruff sound into a registered, _dirty fucking boy,_ and his cheeks flushed again, sweatpants too loose to hide his growing length and he inwardly cursed. God _dammit,_ if Michael's voice didn't go back to normal soon-

"That's good," Luke's own voice was tight, but he managed to loosely wrap his arms around Michael's waist in a half-hearted hug, resting his red cheek against the boy's back. Michael stiffened up, which was unusual and - _shit,_ could he feel Luke's dick?

"Shit," Luke heard the sound of water rushing into the sink, and he was quicker to react than Michael, shutting off the water and even screwing the lid back onto the cap - _domestic,_ Luke thought.

"Idiot," Luke muttered, feeling warm and gooey inside and it felt _terrible_ without the option of kissing Michael whenever he wanted. Instead, he looped an arm around the boy's narrow hips and pulled him to leave the kitchen, to go to the den, or the bedroom, even the _bed-_

"I just want to go to bed," Michael was holding Luke's hand now. _Oh._ Luke bit his lip; he _had_ to stop being so fucking _horny._

Bed! Yes, _bed,_ Michael needed _rest,_ he didn't need Luke to - to _make out,_ or something dumb like that.

Luke hummed. "Then we'll go to bed."

"What do you mean?" There was a break in Michael's voice, a break that, once again, had Luke's mind torturing him by flashing images of kiss-stung lips and clumsy hands behind his eyes, and Luke glanced back at him.

With a soft, barely contained smile, Luke mumbled, "Nothin'. You should get some rest, though."

Luke barely registered leaving Michael in the middle of the kitchen to play some more _FIFA,_ of all things. 

"Rematch," he commanded weakly.

"Y'sure you don't wanna fuck Michael first?"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Hood."

 

* * *

 

Luke was drunk. He was dumb, drank too much too fast on an empty stomach, and he was _trying_ to get his key through the damn keyhole but it was near _impossible._

"Let me do it, Luke, damn," Calum muttered, sober as all hell, but drunk Luke was _independent,_ he could _do it,_ what was Calum trying to do?

"N- _no!"_ Luke hushed, pushing the boy's tan, squishy cheek as he tried to force the key into the lock once more. "'Got this. Don't worry. Hemmo nineteen ninety-four is here to help."

"Well, Hemmo nineteen ninety-four is using a damn _car key_ for the door."

Luke stared at him with wide eyes, dumbly, a deer caught in the headlights. Calum took advantage of that, quickly unlocking the door and shoving Luke into the house. 

"Go to _bed,_ you drunk oaf," Calum sighed, and Luke gave him another dumb grin, along with a thumbs up.

"Aye-aye, captain!"

 _Bed,_ to Luke's drunken mind, was _Michael._ He wouldn't admit it to a single soul, but he _loved_ sleeping next to Michael. The boy made Luke feel safe, made him feel at home when he wasn't home. Michael made him a little less lonely.

Plus, alcohol made look _horny,_ and maybe Michael wouldn't totally hate the idea of sleeping with Luke.

Michael's bedroom door was slightly ajar, and Luke peeked in, seeing the boy laying on his back with an arm thrown across his eyes. Luke snuck in, soundlessly shutting the door behind him. It was _dumb,_ Luke was dumb, but he'd _missed_ Michael in the few hours Calum and him were out.

So he had zero qualms about immediately crawling into the bed (he barely even managed to kick off his shoes) and _latching_ onto Michael.

Michael jolted, "Luke?"

_Baby, call me baby._

Luke shushed him, horny and hungry and drunk and maybe he should eat or drink water or leave the room but Michael's body felt _good_ against his. The light curve of his waist, the hard edge of his hips, the soft skin of his neck as Luke brushed his lips against it. 

Luke barely managed to stammer, "J-jus' wanted ... to be _close,_ to you," as he tossed a leg over Michael's body, pulling himself closer. Michael seemed to give in, slinging an arm around Luke's waist and Luke didn't really understand _why_ his stupid, dumb teenage body was translating that into _wow, he's gonna fuck you,_ and that immediately tightened his jeans and Luke couldn't resist pulling _closer._

He breathed Michael's name, stopping a near-moan as he pushed his hips into Michael's thigh, and the older boy swallowed, Luke could hear the click in his throat, and pulled away, stuttering the boy's name. Luke thought that was _hot._ Everything was hot. Michael was _hot._

"Mikey..." Luke couldn't help it, he was hard and his mind was clouded over with the feeling of Michael's hand gripping his hip _hard,_ rough, even, and he rolled his hips. A whimper escaped his throat, pathetic and small, but it was so _good,_ Luke didn't know what to do. He let a breath escape his lungs as he did it again, and admitted, uncontrollably, "Fuck, you're hot."

It wasn't fair, to Luke's intoxicated mind, that _Luke_ was getting all of this, and Michael was getting nothing. Clumsily, he pushed himself up, shoving a leg between Michael's thighs, biting his lip as his eyes traveled from Michael's dark eyes to his dropped jaw. Michael was _hard._

The older boy made a small sound, and suddenly sat up, pushing Luke completely off of him and - yeah, _ouch._ The movement sobered Luke up pretty fast, and all that was running through his mind was _stupid stupid stupid stupid._

"What's wrong?" Luke's voice was soft and he _hated_ how weak and sad he sounded. Michael sniffed, rubbing his hand over his face in what seemed like aggravation. Fear gripped Luke's chest, he was gonna be _kicked out,_ Michael would hate him for this, think he was _gross_ or - 

Luke _was_ gross. Michael didn't want that. Michael didn't want Luke to feel him up or practically _fuck his leg,_ Luke felt the panic rise in his throat -

"W-what were you doing?"

_Trying to make you realise how in love with you I am._

"Nothing."

Luke's smile was too big.

_"Luke-"_

Michael sounded exasperated.

"G'night, Mikey."

Luke was sad.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

 

* * *

 

The door was cool to the touch.

Luke rested his palm on Calum's bedroom door, his ear against it as well, attempting to capture what little noise Michael made on the other side. He'd been trying to work up the courage to step inside for the past ten minutes. Every few minutes, he'd hear the tiniest sniffle on the other side, and the thought of Michael crying because of Luke and his _dumb fucking decisions_ hurt. 

Eyes closed, he touched his forehead to the wood paneling and fought back tears of his own. His chest ached, he was just _so in love_ with Michael and it felt like there was nothing to ever do about it but _wait it out,_ let the feelings fade and never think of it again.

But deep down, Luke knew he couldn't. Michael was _it_ for him, had been since they were sixteen and clumsy and awkward and spent their nights huddled together in the same bed, whispering secrets and confessions in the same air. There was always _one_ confession Luke could never force out - _I really like you, Michael._

With a deep breath, Luke twisted the door knob and pushed into the room.

"If it's Calum, okay. If it's Ashton, please fuck off." The voice came from a mountain of down pillows and blankets, and Luke bit into his lower lip as he ventured just a _teensy_ bit closer to the mound Michael made on the bed. 

Nervously, Luke wrung out his fingers behind his back and stepped one foot over the other, nearly sweating with anxiety as he did. "What if it's Luke?" 

Michael sat up like he'd been burned, and Luke had _never_ seen him move that fast before. Luke thought he was absolutely _beautiful_ with hair hanging in his emerald eyes and cheeks pink in shock. He was always beautiful to Luke.

"Oh," Michael breathed out, a softly forced laugh following that Luke wasn't even sure Michael realised he'd made, "Hey. Haven't seen you all day."

_I'm so sorry for being an idiot._

Luke coughed, using it as an excuse to shove an elbow over his nose as he tried to dull the red beginning to flush his cheeks. Glancing back at Michael, his sullen and soft face, eyes unreadable, Luke said, "Michael, I don't want to ... I don't wanna, uh, beat around the bush. Can I ... enter your blanket fortress?"

Luke was unable to stop the hint of a smile from tugging at his mouth, and (much to Luke's chagrin) Michael was unable to as well.

Michael nodded silently, pushing a pile of pillows and blankets out of the way to make room for Luke to sit. Luke crossed over and had to nearly physically restrain himself from hugging Michael, or something, so he forced a foot of space between them as he sat down.

"Mike," Luke cleared his throat, and frowned at himself for thickening the tension between the two of them. "I just ... I'm sorry about last night, and I'm sorry I wasn't there in the morning. I just, I was really drunk, and it was stupid on my part for thinking that any part of that was okay."

There was a beat of deafening silence.

"Oh," Michael said, softly and almost in _defeat._ Luke raised his head slowly, not quite meeting Michael's downcast eyes. A glance down showed that Michael was wringing his hands together; an old nervous tick he had and barely realised he ever did. Luke remembered when he'd wrung his hands raw, once or twice.

"Mikey?" Gently, Luke reached out to cup Michael's jaw. The action immediately had Michael shying away, and the boy looked so _small_ and _lost_ that Luke's heart dropped through his stomach and plunged through the carpet.

"I don't know what changed," Michael's voice was barely audible, but Luke caught each word and they clung to his ears, heavy and thick like molasses, sticking themselves to the edges of Luke's mind and the blonde _panicked._

"No, fuck, Michael, nothing's changed!" Desperately, Luke pulled Michael's fingers to his, gently lacing them together in an anxious attempt to prove to him that Luke _wasn't_ in love, that they were still _best friends,_ and it didn't have to be weird, or uncomfortable, or _relationship-like_ between them, as long as Michael didn't want it to be.

Michael let out a sob. The sound was like _fire_ on Luke's ears, torturous, _burning_ him, because he just _had_ to ruin everything, he _had_ to fuck it all up. That's all Luke ever had to offer his relationship with Michael, that's all Luke ever _did._

"Everything has, Luke," Michael's eyes were down and a chorus of _no it hasn't no it hasn't no it hasn't_ screamed behind Luke's eyes. "One day I woke up and _ruined_ everything, because I _noticed._ I noticed your eyes, and your voice, and _you,_ and I saw you differently, and now I _can't,_ and I'm _sorry."_

Michael _knew._

He knew, all along.

Where was the point in lying anymore?

"Oh, Mikey," Luke's eyes stung and Michael glanced up for a second and Luke hated himself for the rush of tears that blurred his vision. His chest _hurt,_ he was barely breathing, he was being forced out of the comfort zone of his useless hope in the fact that Michael was oblivious to his feelings, but what was there left to _say_ anymore? The words rushed out, "Michael, I'm sorry, but _I love you."_

Luke couldn't breathe.

"But not the way that I love you," Michael's voice was bitter, and Luke felt the same, because, _yes,_ Michael loved him in that unfulfilling _just friends_ way, and Luke wanted - needed - _more._ "I can't look at you anymore without wanting to kiss you, or something, and I just _can't do it_ Luke. It'll take me a while, yeah, but I'll get over it-"

The words only _half_ registered to Luke's blistered ears before the blonde started laughing at the incredulity of their situation. The tears remained streaming down his face, but it wasn't because the weight of the _love_ he felt for Michael was still sitting heavy, crushing his ribs and flattening his lungs, it was because the _love_ was finally _liberated._

  
Michael _loved_ Luke.

The younger of the two pushed his shaking hands through the older boy's dark locks, bringing one hand to grip his jaw to pull him in and do what he'd been craving for _years._

The soft gasp against Luke's lips just had him wanting _more,_ and Michael was only still for a moment before he was _kissing back,_ a whine pouring out of his throat and Luke felt his shirt being tugged so he obliged, pulling closer to Michael and relishing in the soft moan that escaped his lips. 

"God, I love you," Michael pushed a reddened nose to Luke's and the action was so _romantic_ and _intimate_ that Luke was nothing against the unstoppable smile that sprung itself onto his face.

"I love you _more,"_ Luke whispered, and Michael looked like he was about to rise to the challenge, but Luke hurriedly pressed his mouth against the older boy's in a kiss that had him holding his breath as to not let the loud moan that was building in his chest free.

Michael's hands dug into Luke's sharp hipbones, and Luke's eyes rolled back at the thought of there being bruises there in the morning. He barely realised they were _moving_ until he had his lean legs locked around Michael's narrow hips, Michael's _God damn tongue in his mouth_ distracting him.

"Been wanting this with you forever,"  the admission fell out of Luke's mouth uncontrollably, his hips jerking against Michael's as the older boy groaned when Luke's nails raked down his shoulder blades. An embarrassingly loud whimper escaped Luke's lips.

"Yeah?" Michael was breathless but still managing to fucking _tease_ Luke, which nearly had the blonde rolling his eyes _until_ he felt Michael fall against his neck, moan against him, and Luke instead let his head fall back, barely able to breathe. Michael was kissing him softly, the skin there thin and sensitive, and Luke swore he nearly fucking _came_ in his jeans like a prepubescent _kid_ when he felt Michael suck a gentle mark into his collarbone. 

The moan that fell from his lips was loud and shameless as he pulled Michael closer and pushed their hips together _harder,_ and Michael gasped softly against Luke's throat. Luke's toes curled, he was so _close,_ it would only take one or two more rocks of Michael's hips or maybe even just one more _hickey..._

"Michael, _harder-"_ Luke began to plead, so caught in his pleasure that he hardly noticed the door opening.

 "Mike, you still in - oh my _fucking_ God, you _assholes!"_

Truth be told, Luke hardly understood what was going on when Michael leapt away from him, banging his thigh on the side of the window and groaning. 

 _Oh._ Calum and Ashton were home.

Luke was mostly embarrassed, so much so that he hardly could even _hear_ Calum yelling. He was also, _horrifically,_ still _turned on,_ and that was really _the worst,_ because he was embarrassed and disappointed and hot and cold and feeling too much _all at once,_ and he just wanted Michael  _close to him_ again-

"Calum!" Michael's voice cut into Calum's rant, and Luke glanced up at him with wide, wide eyes,  "calm down, we're sorry. Neither of us messed up your sheets ... too much ... and it won't happen again."

Luke could vaguely hear Ashton losing his shit with laughter outside the room.

Calum glared, "Go to your room."

"What the fuck?" Was Michael's all-too-intelligent response.

" _Your room,_ Michael, go _now,_ and do whatever the _fuck_ you want, fuck him, suck him, _stab him into a coma,_ but just get _out_ of my sight before I _murder you both."_

_Fucking Luke and sucking Luke doesn't seem too bad._

Luke, once again, tuned everything and _everyone_ out out of pure _shame,_ and, after a minute, Michael wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him out of the bedroom. Mortified, too much so to look at Ashton and Calum, Luke pulled his hood over his head. 

Suddenly, Michael said ( _loudly_ ), "Hey, Calum, I fucked him from behind, and that can get _real messy_ when _he_ finishes, so you better watch out before going anywhere near your bed."

 Heat rolled through Luke at the mere _mention_ of - doing _that_ with Michael, but Michael nearly threw him into his room across the hall as Calum began _raging,_ and Luke settled down onto Michael's bed with a soft laugh as the boy locked the door and shoved his desk chair under the knob for good measure.

_"That's so fucking disgusting! Ashton, he can't get away with that, they can't just_ fuck _in my bed, please, make them fuck off."_ Luke had to admit, this _was_ pretty funny.  _"I'll get you two back, I fucking swear!"_

...If not slightly worrying.

  "If he tries anything," Michael tilted Luke's face up gently with soft, mischievous grin playing on his kiss-stung lips. Luke wrapped his arms around the boy's waist, glancing up with equally soft (and equally mischievous) eyes. "I _will_ fuck you in his bed. Deal?"

 Luke laughed, his eyes shutting as he did because that was just so _cheeky_ and so _Michael_ and Luke _loved_ it all. Feeling a little too brave for his own good, he snaked a hand just a bit lower to squeeze Michael's ass through his suffocating skinny jeans. He had to admit, it was a nice ass. "Deal. But, how about we get to work on fucking in _this_ bed first?" 

  
 Michael gasped, the gleeful twinkle in his eyes unmistakable. "Luke Robert Hemmings, you absolute _flirt."_

Luke was so in love. He winked,  "Only for you. Because I love you." 

 

Michael's eyes softened, his jaw slackening, and he caressed Luke's cheekbone with his thumb, whispering an,  "I love you," like it was all some big secret for only _them_ to know. 

And Luke was fine with that, standing to gently press his mouth to the older boy's.  "I love you more."

Michael smirked, taking the challenge, before effortlessly tackling Luke into the sheets and peppering kisses all over the blonde's face. Luke giggled, high and almost girlish in tone, because - he should've _expected_ Michael to be this _romantic._ He was _Michael,_ for crying out loud. 

Maybe his feelings weren't so _dumb_ after all. 

 

* * *

 

"I can't believe we _fucked_ in his bed."

"He's the one who thought putting a spider in the tub was funny. He's just lucky we're not going for round two."

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE HOPE HOPE YOU ENJOYED!   
> kudos and comments are appreciated, criticism is welcomed!


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